


Between the Light and the Lost

by wraisedbywolves



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Religion, relationship discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8507353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraisedbywolves/pseuds/wraisedbywolves
Summary: The shem world still has some very uncomfortable moments for Eirian, and the differences between the Chant of Light and the Elvhen gods are still a sticking point between him and Cassandra





	

"I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing this one sung in taverns," Eirian muttered, almost to low to hear.

Cassandra had to set her mug down and focus on listening for a moment to figure out what he was even talking about. They sat elbow to elbow at the far end of the bar, tacitly showing support for the troops and their outpouring of relief after the siege at Adamant. Eirian had picked up the habit from Bull, although he didn't have the same enthusiasm for drink. Even so, the common soldiers loved him for it, and Cassandra had to agree--at least in private--that Bull had been right. It was hard to hear the bard by the hearth at all over the talk and clatter of the tavern, but after a moment she recognized it. It was a common enough song, and one she'd never given any thought to.

_"I am the one  
__Who can recount_  
_What we've lost."_

She turned to ask Eirian what he mean, and frowned. Her lover was looking over towards the corner table where Bull and his Chargers were laughing about something, but his clear grey eyes seemed to be fixed on something much farther away. His lips moved faintly, forming unfamiliar words in time with the music.

"What's so special about this song?" Cassandra prompted when he didn't elaborate, and her question seemed to snap him out of some reverie. He looked around, apparently relieved to find that no one else had noticed his moment of distraction.

"Do you think they'll miss us if we leave?" he asked, trying to gauge the din of tankards on wood and the strange mix of bragging and eulogy that characterized the troops after a good victory. "I need some air."

Cassandra stood up and slid several fat silver coins across to the bartender, then cleared a path for Eirian to the side door. There were a few couples outside, staving off the chill with the warmth of their bodies and utterly wrapped up in one another, but once they turned the corner to the practice yard she so often haunted they found themselves alone. Eirian looked far away again, and she let him take the lead. He obviously had someplace in mind, though his gaze seemed to wander across the scatter of stars overhead.

Eirian led them up onto the battlements, seeming not to feel the chill of the winds that whipped across Skyhold's walls, and then up onto the watchtower at the corner of those walls. There was a watch fire there, with two guards huddled around it for warmth. He drew himself up out of his wandering thoughts and put on a winning smile, then clapped one of the guards on the shoulder. Cassandra often marveled at how quickly he'd learned to win the respect of the soldiers, and this was no different. She almost envied the admiration in their eyes.

"You two don't look like you've gotten a chance to go celebrate this evening," said Eirian. "Go have a mug of ale and warm up a bit."

Both guards saluted, and neither one hesitated to go. Cassandra thought she saw one glance back at her, a mischievous spark in her eye, and wondered if the woman would report their presumed tryst to Leliana. She wondered, as she often did around Skyhold, if she cared who knew.

Despite the guard's assumptions, though, Eirian seemed in no hurry to take advantage of the privacy of the guard post. Instead, he simply stood near the fire, his skinny arms wrapped around his chest. Cassandra stood close by, but made no move to touch him. He still had that strange, distant air to him, and she wasn't sure what it meant.

"Did you know that was an elvhen song, originally?" he asked after a long moment of silence. 

Cassandra arched a brow and shook her head. "No, I had no idea."

He didn't elaborate. Just when his silence seemed to be growing uncomfortably long, though, he began to sing under his breath.

_"Heruamin lotirien  
__Alai uethri maeria_  
_Halurocon yalei nam bahna_  
 _Dolin nereba maome"_

Cassandra listened in silence. He read her poetry sometimes, to make her smile, but he often faltered over the subtleties of cadence and tone in the common tongue when he did. On those few occasions when he spoke elvish to her, he used only short phrases, and often followed them immediately with translations. To hear a whole stanza in the language was startling--the flow of it was more soothing than she could have imagined, with a rocking rhythm that put her in mind of a ship at sea.

"That was... beautiful," Cassandra murmured when he lapsed into silence again. Eirian turned back to look up at her through his lashes, a sheepish smile on his face.

"It's one of the first songs Dalish children learn," he explained. "After everything that's happened the last few days, after the Fade.... I guess I've been thinking about what it was like before all this."

"What we saw in there--it was incredible, but terrifying, too. I've always believed, but to actually see the Black City in the distance with my own eyes..." She watched the fire, remembering the way her hands had shaken even as she held her sword.

"We have our own stories of the Black City, you know,"

"Really? I thought you didn't believe in the Maker?"

"We don't--in our stories, the Black City is Arlathan, the greatest city of the ancient elves, the city that fell in the days of Tevinter's arrival. In some ways, it's a similar tale."

"So nothing you saw, not even the spirit of the Divine herself, convinced you of the Marker's hand in all this?"

Eirian smiled sadly, then turned to look out over the battlements. "Cassandra, I know you want me to have some sudden, transformative revelation. But it isn't going to happen, and if you can't accept that maybe it's better if we don't continue this," he said, though a slight tremor in his voice betrayed the expression of pain she couldn't see.

Cassandra scowled at the back of his head. "That's not what I meant! I don't want--I don't..." She trailed off, feeling the prickle of angry tears threatening. "Don't be foolish! I just... I don't _understand,_  Eirian. Faith has been my guiding light all my life. I can't imagine _wanting_ to live without that beacon."

"But that's what I've been trying to explain to you--I'm not living _without_  faith. I'm choosing to put my faith in something other than what you believe. The Chant of Light is not for people like me--even if it was, once, the Canticle of Shartan was struck from the Chant during the second Exalted March. Surely you can imagine how it stings to hear that you need only faith in the Maker to be satisfied in this world and the next from the lips of those who hunt us for sport and steal our children to be raised as servants."

Cassandra stared at him, taken aback. "I thought your clan lived closely with humans."

"We did, until the recent violence," he sighed. 

"But when I speak of my people, I mean all elves--not just my clan, or the Dalish. You heard the way they talked at the winter palace--at Halamshiral, where we built _our_ home! It doesn't matter what I do, people in positions of power will always see me as a filthy knife-ear first. So long as elves are looked down upon, none of us are truly safe. And the Chantry would tell us to accept this, to ignore the pains of the flesh and the soul in favor of the next life--'though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure.' What do the clerics in Val Royeaux know of darkness?"

"I apologize," said Cassandra. "I didn't think before I spoke. Now that I know you, now that we are... you know. I forget, sometimes, how differently we view the world." They had talked about his home and family before, but she had never heard the bitter edge his voice took on as he quoted from the Chant itself. 

He turned back towards her, finding the hurt in the set of her shoulders and wishing that he knew a way to ease it without lying. "I can't change who I am or how the world looks at me. I can only hope that I have enough influence to change a little bit of the view from where I stand--I was glad to see Briala standing behind Celine when we left the winter palace. She has a chance to make things a little better, and I like to think I do too."

Cassandra nodded. "And I'm here to help you. Even when we disagree."

He smiled, and moved close to the watch fire and to her. "We may not always see eye to eye, but I do respect your faith--it burns in you like a flame, and I can see it shining out. I only ask that you understand that I have my own reasons for believing as I do, and that those reasons don't mean I think less of you."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the faint din of the tavern below the battlements. It was a cold night, but the flickering shadows of the fire kept the chill off and the stone walls broke the wind.

"I must admit, you know a great deal more of the Chant of Light than I thought. Where did you learn it?" Cassandra asked at last.

"I can't quote much on demand, but I've read the whole of it--including the Dissonant Verses. I was the Keeper's First before all this. Some clans might scoff, but Keeper Istimaethoriel has always felt that we could not afford to ignore humans. She saw to it that I, and anyone else who wanted to, studied the Chant of Light as a means of understanding human society. Our own legends came first, but we have never pretended that they're the only ones."

"That's what you mean when you say that you _choose_  to believe otherwise, then."

"Precisely. I've studied the texts of the Imperium, as well, and a few ballads of the Avaar. After learning all of them, I chose to follow the elvhen gods, even if we don't know precisely who or what they really were."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Cassandra asked, her curiosity piqued. Eirian had learned that expression well, the one she wore when trying to puzzle out some complex problem.

"So much of what came before the Imperium has been lost," he answered softly. "You've walked among the ruins with me--we do know some of our history, and find ways to interpret our own traditions, but much of it is like trying to assemble a mosaic when you have the pieces, but not the design. You wouldn't even know where tiles were missing. Perhaps Morrigan is right--perhaps the elvhen gods were merely rulers, or religious leaders themselves in service to some other faith. In the end, it doesn't matter to me--I choose to revere the gods because to do so is to worship _ourselves,_  in a way. No one else will honor us, or see us as worthy. Why shouldn't we?"

"I imagine most folk would find such talk blasphemous."

"Then you deserve to know you've been sleeping with a blasphemer, I suppose," said Eirian, trying to keep his tone light. 

"But it really is true--I may not have grown up in an isolationist clan myself, but who can blame them when the outside world has only scorn for our kind? A child who grows up hearing only that he is lesser, that his life is worthless, will believe it. We need to believe in ourselves to stay whole and following what we can of the ancient ways serves that purpose, even if it turns out we were wrong in our interpretations. Solas scoffs at the Dalish for clinging to things we don't even understand, but we know full well that it might be foolish. We do what we have to in order to survive this world unbowed."

He was watching the stars when Cassandra looked over at him again. She wondered what names he gave the constellations above--she had never thought to ask. She put a hand on his shoulder, and he turned back to smile at her sadly, his eyes full of stars.

"I understand how important the Chantry is to you," Eirian said. "It's been there your whole life, and it will always be there if you want it. I don't mean to disrespect _you_  when I deny the tenets of your faith. Your path is yours to walk. I only ask that you let me walk mine, too, even if it might lead us to part ways one day."

"I have left the Chantry behind many times in pursuit of what I believe. It seems they will manage without my direct oversight. I'd like to walk beside you while I can," Cassandra said, reaching out to brush her fingers against the line of his jaw. Eirian smiled, the sadness banished for the moment.

"I'd like that, _ma vhenan_."

**Author's Note:**

> Curious about Eirian? Here's a quick summary image of what he's all about:  
> http://wraisedbywolves.tumblr.com/image/129713471612


End file.
